Perfect World
by sweetstack
Summary: Kiryuu becomes a Dark Signer for an entirely different reason. Kiryuu/Crow/Yuusei


**Notes**: Way too many ellipses and reiterations... but, this is one of my favorites. It's pretty morbid.

* * *

Kiryuu loved his beautiful, orange-haired Crow; the man with whom he had been with for months now. Silver-haired Kiryuu couldn't care about what the hell was going on in the world anymore, and why? Because he had his Crow, and before he had had his Crow, he obviously hadn't of had his Crow. Someone else had had his Crow.

But Kiryuu can't mind that now, because Crow is now his, and while Crow's ex-boyfriend was still in the picture (he was a "best friend" of both the men), Kiryuu didn't mind too much.

Because Crow was his.

Every golden morning, Kiryuu would wake up next to his man, and he would stretch his arms and yawn, finally happy to live in the disgusting, poorer-than-dirt part of the city (not that he minded living in the Satellite anymore - he had his Crow, after all). Sometimes the two would find something to eat, or they would eat at Martha's (a woman who tended to foster orphan children, like Kiryuu's Crow himself). Sometimes (and occasionally a lot of the time) they wouldn't eat at all for days, but Kiryuu couldn't be happier (you-know-why).

Since Kiryuu and Crow had gotten together, their two best friends had made more of an appearance in their lives: Jack, and Yuusei.

Yuusei. Yuusei Fudou. The man who makes Kiryuu want to cringe, but he can't, because he has no reason to. Crow isn't Yuusei's anymore, and Kiryuu has a hard time imagining that Crow was happy with him.

Kiryuu is sure that Yuusei forced Crow to be with him. Hurt him.

Yuusei belongs to Jack now, anyways, even though he probably just brainwashed Jack into finding him attractive, as Kiryuu believes. Yuusei, with his black crab-hair with streaking lightning bolts (which Kiryuu can never get over mentioning - it's just so ridiculous), and blue eyes that tend to seem purple sometimes, gloomy twenty-four-seven expression, and that marker on his left cheek, of course; the bright zigzagging yellow stripe that runs from his left eye to his jawbone, accompanied by an extra yellow triangle (both which scream, "I've been to jail, I've been to jail!" But could Kiryuu really talk…?).

Kiryuu screams at Yuusei in his mind. Because he can't stand the fact that Crow used to be his. In his perfect world, his and Crow's perfect world, Yuusei is the only catalyst.

The only.

* * *

He hums. Kiryuu hums.

"Boh-juu, boh-juu…oo la, la-la-la…"

He doesn't know, though. Kiryuu doesn't know.

He pushes a dull lock away from his eyes, clearing his previously fragmented vision, and continues his trot home, and up the steps to his and Crow's abode. When he arrives at the front door, he stops. He feels something, and he can't quite place it. But he feels…dark. Absolutely dark.

He knows he shouldn't, but he pushes the door open, anyways. Nothing horrible or crazy or large and frightening appears in his vision, but the dark feeling still persists. The regular returning-home sights grace his eyes: the thin hall leading into the main room, where an old, worn couch resides, and then the shelves he can see around the corner of the wall. Sighing, and with a slump, he slowly walks into the main room and drops his bag onto the couch. This is home. Why should he feel so uncomfortable here…?

Kiryuu looks around when he hears a creaking sound. Crow must be in the bedroom, he says in his mind, and so he goes to their bedroom, with only a sliver less of that dark, uncomfortable feeling.

What he sees…What Kiryuu sees after he turns the doorknob and pushes the door open…

Crow and Yuusei are sprawled out on their bed (not Yuusei's, God, not Yuusei's, but his and Crow's), limbs either outstretched, or clutching onto each other, and they are obviously very deep into fucking. Either they're too into it, or they just don't care, because they continue, disregarding Kiryuu's looming presence.

"Oh, fuck, Yuusei…I have a cramp…in my fucking…foot…fuck!"

As if to emphasize, Crow presses his foot downward on Yuusei's back, and arches his back.

Kiryuu breathes and tries to make himself comfortable, and at time like this, no less. He isn't sure whether to explode or to wait until they're finished to cut off Yuusei's head and jab it onto a stick. Something really excites him about that thought (cutting off Yuusei's head, yeah), and that's when he decides on what to do, and acts upon it. He walks over to the two on the bed, and watches Yuusei attack Crow's chest with his mouth, all the while melting into him. Something in Kiryuu's abdomen wriggles, and squirms, and electrocutes his insides. Something dark and sporadic.

Kiryuu reaches out and yanks Yuusei's head back by one of his crab-legs of hair. His action doesn't pull the two lovers apart (nor was he intending to), but it sure as hell surprises the two.

"Ki…Ki…Kiryuu?" Crow looks up at Kiryuu, up past Yuusei, obviously shocked, and with large cow-eyes adorning his round face. Kiryuu almost wants to gouge out his eyes (almost, and he can almost feel it, too, the squishiness of Crow's eyeballs on his fingers, oozing underneath his fingernails after they've popped), but he doesn't, nor could he ever. Because he loves Crow.

Yuusei's voice breaks the silence, waveringly. It cracks the air like a cannon.

"You…you hurt him, Kiryuu," he says. "You…took him from me. You took me from him. You broke us. We…were in love, Kiryuu. We still are. You threatened to hurt me, to kill me, and that's why Crow…listened to you, and left me for you. I couldn't stand it, but I couldn't stand it even more when you…you hurt him, Kiryuu. You hurt him so bad. He has so many marks, so many bruises, and so many sick memories, and I'm just…I won't stand for this. You don't deserve even a moment of Crow's time, nor a piece of fucking hair off his head, you bastard." Yuusei makes a fist. "You hurt him. You hurt him, you bastard. You're a sick fuck. You, you fucking…with the table…the legs of the fucking table…"

Nobody says anything afterwards, nobody attempts to stick up for themselves, or say, "This was a mistake!" or "He made me!" or "Kiryuu, I'm so, so, so fucking sorry, fuck, oh, fuck," and that's why Kiryuu leaves. Because Kiryuu knows he isn't mad, he isn't crazy; he would never hurt Crow. His Crow. How dare that fucking piece of trash Yuusei claim otherwise? Some part of him remembers the table, though. The legs of the table, the table next to their bed. Some part of him tells him that he raped Crow with each of those four legs, all in the same night, and that he lounged on the bed afterwards, with his hands behind his head, a big smile on his face, while Crow bled and cried and cried and cried and held himself in a crunched ball at the foot of the bed.

But Yuusei, that fuck, is obviously just playing with his mind, because Kiryuu wouldn't ever do that to Crow. To his Crow, of all people. But something tells him that Crow deserved it. Deserved what, and why, Kiryuu doesn't want to think about.

He doesn't know it, but he sprints out the door, and runs. He stumbles down the steps, and he can feel himself fall, and he can feel himself scream. He can feel the pain as he twists his ankle, and bends it over and over again as he continues to twist down each brooding step.

Kiryuu knows now. He knows. He knows that his Crow never really ever got over Yuusei. What Kiryuu doesn't know, though, doesn't know, doesn't care to know, is that he's crazy. He's insane.

* * *

Once Kiryuu is out of the building, out of his home (his and Crow's home, his and Crow's), he continues to run, and that's when the dark emotion he feels consumes not only his heart, but his mind, as well, and he begins to…hear the voice. Feel the voice. Follow the voice, without even intending to, at first.

"Oh, Kiryuu," the voice croons to him. "This isn't your fault, not at all, not at all. This is all that Yuusei's fault. All that Yuusei's doing. You will make him pay, won't you, Kiryuu?"

Kiryuu nods understandingly. "I will, I will. Of course I will."

"Good," the voice says smoothly. "Now, here is what you must do…"

* * *

As the storybooks say (the comics, the web comics, the cartoons, the animations), Kiryuu is insane, obviously, and he runs off to achieve more little insane things; the little insane tidbits that keep him just the way he is: insane.

And he does. Except, this time, it's bigger; it's bigger than life.

He muddles with Sector Security (the big one-oh-one, crashing into their Turbo Academy-issued motorcycles with his own, jutting his leg out in the process, kicking off helmets, and cards off of terminals, probably breaking his leg in the process, but, shit, Kiryuu doesn't care anymore, can't say he ever did), and he fucks with some Duel Gangs, some of the big ones (the big one-oh-twos), the big ones with guns hidden in their pants, or taped (with tie-dye duct tape, of all the colors and patterns in the world) underneath their Duel Disks.

He isn't surprised when he gets shot in the shoulder, but it's not like he can say that he actually feels it. He feels it, but…he just doesn't care, and therefore thinks he can't feel. Can't feel a goddamned thing. Kiryuu pats his shot-up shoulder, as if for luck, and then continues to walk, not run, away from the duelists with guns, the whole area surrounded by the flashing lights and sirens of Sector Security.

Kiryuu turns. He turns to them, the large crowd of gun-holders and Security, and he opens his arms wide, as if to hold the world.

"Lemme at 'im," he says, and someone aims a bullet into his stomach. Kiryuu keeps his arms open, but they droop ever so slightly, and he himself drops to his knees.

And the voice says, "Kiryuu will come back…you'll be back soon…"

Lemme at the world, Kiryuu says. Lemme at the world…

* * *

Kiryuu isn't surprised when he wakes (opens his eyes, opens his eyes), and feels nothing. God, what sane person would ever even think that Security would get medical help for a lowlife citizen of the Satellite?

Oh, right. He wasn't sane.

So, he's dead, is that it? He's dead. And all he can feel, all he can smell, all he can taste, all he can want…other than nothing, is…

Blood.

"Let me at the world," he says. "Let me at the fucking world."

* * *

Killing people isn't such a bad thing, Kiryuu surmises. Actually, it's quite fun. But not quite as satisfying as it could be. As it should be. As it will be.

It's been a day or so, a day or two, you know how it goes. He doesn't have to eat. At least, he thinks he doesn't have to eat. After all, he's been tempted to drink blood this entire time, and so he has, and he hasn't really been hungry since he…died.

He finds it so fascinating as to how he can simply grab a person's neck, and dig his fingers so easily into the skin, crushing their windpipe. He finds it even more fascinating that he can simply…drink their blood so easily. It's so delicious.

"But this isn't enough to satisfy me," Kiryuu says.

* * *

The idea…festers, and, he isn't quite sure where it comes from. Not exactly sure, at least. All he knows is that…

He wants to make Crow his. Always.

Flaunting his new attire of darkened garb, expressing his very being, he returns home. Home. Home. His and Crow's…home.

Kiryuu feels like he simply flies - glides - up the steps to their establishment. He can remember the last time that he had been here, but he can't really feel the pain. All he can feel is this…relished anger. He pushes open the door, and goes into the living room, and…Crow isn't there. Again. Probably fucking Yuusei again. Probably…

Before he knows it, Kiryuu is inside their old bedroom; the very bedroom that now lacks its previous Yuusei, but holds dear its current Crow, who is wrapped up in a ball on the bed.

Just like that night.

Kiryuu's mood becomes…oddly gentle. He sidles over to the bed, and pets Crow's rustled, spiraling orange hair.

"Crow…I…I…"

He can't say it at first.

"I want to make you mine. Always. My always, Crow. Always."

Crow is silent.

"Always, Crow."

Crow mumbles something within his cave, probably realizes that he can't be heard, and unleashes his body from the ball to look skeptically at Kiryuu with tear-struck, blurry eyes.

"Why the hell are you here?" Crow asks.

"To make you my always, Crow."

"Shut the fuck up and give me a straight answer for once!" Crow screams, collecting his fists to his chest and clenching them tight. "For once, just…tell me…"

It's a precious moment. Crow is vulnerable, Kiryuu is vulnerable. Kiryuu rubs a thumb down Crow's sodden cheek, and Crow just keeps looking down, even as he erupts his body into Kiryuu's embrace.

"Can I make love to you?" Kiryuu whispers into Crow's ear.

"Yeah." Crow nods hurriedly. "Yeah, yeah. Sure."

Only a short while after Kiryuu places his body over Crow's on the bed, hoping to melt into him as this new blood-lusting identity, does Crow squint through wet eyes.

"What?"

"…What?"

"Your…eyes."

"My…eyes?"

"Kiryuu!" Crow squirms underneath him. "What the…what the fuck? The fuck?" Crow grabs Kiryuu's face, and brings it to his own. "Is love blind?" he whispers. "Is love fucking blind…?"

Kiryuu looks deep into Crow's eyes, and sees his face reflected in the tears. His entire eyes are dark, with similar golden irises in the middle, yes, like always before, but now, those circular irises are embedded around even darker, smaller circles than the rest of his eye.

Black. Pure black. Pure…dark.

"So…this is it, eh?" Kiryuu fondles his own face curiously.

"'It…?' 'It?' What the fuck is 'it,' Kiryuu?"

"The change."

"Oh, like menopause for dudes?"

Kiryuu nods.

"Give me a fucking break!" Crow pushes Kiryuu off of him, and stands. "I told you to just…fucking…tell me…and you didn't. And now your eyes are all…black and…yellow, and your face is all marked up with red shit, and I just…"

Crow buries his face in his hands, and Kiryuu wraps his arms around him, burying him within his dark clothing.

"Let me take you to always, Crow."

* * *

Away from Yuusei. Where Kiryuu always wanted him and Crow to be…that's where they are. Kiryuu realizes that he never asked Crow what happened with Yuusei, but Kiryuu doesn't need to think about that. No, not anymore. Never again.

Crow stands. Kiryuu stands. Kiryuu envelopes him with his darkness.

"He won't want you anymore, baby," Kiryuu whispers, "once all you can think about is slitting his throat, and soaking all that blood up with your tongue. You know that, don't you? The bloodlust…well, you'll know it soon."

Crow whimpers when Kiryuu holds out his neck, and presses a knife to it, but he doesn't say anything. He just…slowly…accepts…the bloodlust.

"Kiryuu?"

One deep, sharp swipe, and it's over. Crow would have fallen over if Kiryuu hadn't of held him, held him like a lover. His blood spurts all over Kiryuu, and Crow's eyes are left wide in the eye of death, and yet Kiryuu clutches Crow's limp body to his. Harder than ever before.

Kiryuu cries, despite it all. Despite it all, Kiryuu cries.

* * *

"Kiryuu…" Crow whimpers, full black eyes with gray irises gleaming back at him. Fallen, beautiful orange hair gathered in points a little bit before his shoulders, and red markers now adorning his round, gorgeous face. "Do you remember that one night…? With the table?"

"Yeah?" Kiryuu says.

"Let's do that again," Crow moans.

And they do.


End file.
